


so let's dance (take a chance)

by symphony7inAmajor



Series: well, you're dirty and sweet [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Panties, Sharing Clothes, back per REQUEST, or... a jersey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 12:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18917338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: “Hey,” Nikolaj says, “dance with me.”(or, nikolaj keeps his promise)





	so let's dance (take a chance)

**Author's Note:**

> if you read the first one you know EXACTLY what this is
> 
> i was supposed to finish this yesterday but i've been in a state of dead since friday so....
> 
> title from the same song because that's how i do series "bang a gong (get it on)" by t.rex

“Hey,” Nikolaj says, “dance with me.” Patrik raises an eyebrow at him and doesn’t move. Nikolaj makes sure the rest of the guys aren’t watching and drags his hand up Patrik’s thigh, his eyes wide and innocent. Patrik catches his wrist.

“How drunk are you?” Patrik asks, looking amused. He squeezes Nikolaj’s wrist, once, and lets go. Nikolaj folds his hands in his lap and tries to look sad.

“Not drunk,” he answers, because he isn’t. He can’t help his grin, shifting closer to Patrik and leaning up to whisper in his ear. “Just horny.” Because he is. Patrik looks at him suspiciously.

“So why do you want to dance,” he says, “and _not_ go home?” Patrik’s hand drops onto his thigh under the table, higher than Nikolaj’s had been on his leg. He brushes his thumb back and forth slowly. Nikolaj shivers. He feels too big for his skin, tonight, his fingers tapping a beat on his knee, the leg Patrik isn’t holding onto bouncing up and down.

“Just want to.” He shrugs. Patrik drags his fingers up Nikolaj’s inseam, looking smug at the way he twitches. Nikolaj pushes his hand off and stands up. “If you won’t dance with me,” he says, a challenge, “I’ll find someone who will.” He turns and heads into the crowd, not waiting for Patrik’s response.

The dimness of the club, the flashing lights, the crowd, all of it makes it hard for people to be recognizable, shadows making their faces look alien. It still doesn’t take long for Patrik to find him, catching his arm and pulling him back into his chest. Nikolaj drops his head back to look up at Patrik’s face, frowning in fond exasperation.

“Got you,” Nikolaj says, just loud enough that Patrik can hear him over the music. Patrik rolls his eyes, but he ducks his head to kiss him anyway. It’s an awkward angle, Nikolaj having to twist his neck uncomfortably to get to Patrik’s mouth, but it’s worth it for the way Patrik groans when he grinds his hips back.

“We can’t do this here,” Patrik says, pulling back with effort. Nikolaj twists to face him, lacing his fingers together behind Patrik’s neck. He tries to get Patrik to sway with him and mostly fails.

“Mmm,” he agrees. “‘S okay. I was going to give you the second part at home, anyway.” Patrik looks confused. His hands are still on Nikolaj’s waist, holding tight. Nikolaj takes his hands in his own, lowers them to the waistband of his jeans.

Carefully, making sure nobody’s paying attention, Patrik works a finger into his jeans. Nikolaj can tell the moment he realizes what’s going on, his eyes going wide as he looks at Nikolaj. He traces his finger along the thin waistband of the panties, making Nikolaj tremble, then he lets go.

“I’ll get a car,” Patrik says. He pulls Nikolaj along with him, one hand wrapped around Nikolaj’s wrist. His rough palm is warm against Nikolaj’s skin, making Nikolaj feel hot at the thought of what’s coming. He shakes his head a little to clear his mind when they step outside, the sharp winter air helping him calm down.

“It’s cold,” Nikolaj says. He doesn’t even bother trying to make himself sound pitiful about it, but Patrik still tugs him in close and wraps an arm around him. He says nothing about how they both come from cold climates, which is surprising--Patrik rarely passes up a chance to make fun of him. The reason for that becomes very obvious when Patrik’s arm slips until one hand is resting on Nikolaj’s hip. Patrik hooks his thumb into Nikolaj’s jeans to toy with the panties. Nikolaj swallows hard.

“These are new,” Patrik says, tone even enough that he might be talking about the weather. Nikolaj feels kind of embarrassed about having worn his black panties enough that Patrik can recognize them by touch, but. It’s also kind of hot, so he doesn’t really care _that_ much.

“Yeah,” Nikolaj says, then Patrik is letting go of him to get into their Uber.

They’re both good and keep their hands to themselves on the ride to Nikolaj’s place, but Patrik keeps _looking_ at him. It’s pretty frustrating. Nikolaj kind of wants to lean over and suck his dick, damn the driver, but that’s just fantasy. Still, Patrik can probably see some of that on his face, judging by the way he smiles crookedly.

Nikolaj gets out of the car first, leaving Patrik to pay. He leans against the door, waiting for him. Patrik doesn’t touch him until Nikolaj’s door is closed behind them, but when they’re finally inside, he presses Nikolaj back against the wall to kiss him. Nikolaj lets himself kiss back for a moment, arching up into Patrik, but then he pushes him away.

“No,” he says firmly. “Go wait on the couch.” Nikolaj slips out from between the wall and Patrik. “I’ll be right back,” he promises, and goes into his room.

The jersey is laid out on his bed. Nikolaj looks at it for a moment, then he takes off his clothes before he can chicken out. This was _technically_ his idea, after all.

He takes off everything except his panties, the pair he ordered online. They’re as close to Jets blue as he could find. They’re even less modest than his first pair, which, like. Says a lot. These ones are tiny, the back little more than a string. They’re not very comfortable, but Nikolaj’s willing to make that sacrifice.

Nikolaj picks up the jersey, strokes his fingers over the _29_ on the shoulders for a moment. He puts it on.

It’s even bigger than he’d thought, since the jersey is made to fit not only Patrik but also his pads. It hangs loose around his shoulders, the sleeves falling to cover his hands. It goes almost to his knees. His mouth is dry.

He feels _small._

He hesitates again before he opens the door, but he brushes aside any doubts and goes to find Patrik.

Patrik’s slouched against the couch cushions, just dicking around on his phone. Nikolaj twists his hands in the sleeves of the jersey and bites the inside of his cheek. He clears his throat.

Immediately, Patrik looks to him, his eyes going wide when he sees what Nikolaj is wearing. Nikolaj feels himself blushing, but he looks at Patrik through his eyelashes anyway. He even bites his lip.

“You coming?” he asks, tilting his head back towards his room. As soon as Patrik stands up, Nikolaj ducks away, hurrying back to the bedroom. He laughs, a little breathless, at Patrik’s outraged noise.

Patrik catches him before he can get to the actual bed, reeling him in by the back of the jersey. He presses himself against Nikolaj’s back, tucking his face into where the jersey meets Nikolaj’s skin.

“I like this surprise,” Patrik says, a little muffled by Nikolaj’s neck. Nikolaj gets a hand in Patrik’s hair to keep him close, so Patrik kisses his jaw.

“The jersey’s only one part,” Nikolaj says with difficulty, Patrik already scraping his teeth down his throat. “Don’t you want to see the rest?” Patrik grumbles a bit, but he lets go after pressing one last kiss to his ear.

Nikolaj steps away from him to go lie on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows to look at Patrik. He reaches down with one hand to lift the edge of the jersey, enough that Patrik probably has a great view of the way the fabric at the front does a pathetic job of covering his dick, the string that _really_ doesn’t cover his ass. There’s a really obvious wet spot on the front, staining the fabric even darker blue.

The look in Patrik’s eyes is enough to make Nikolaj blush even harder. He lays his head back against the pillows and closes his eyes.

 _“Fuck,_ Nik,” Patrik breathes. Nikolaj can’t see him, but he can hear the distinct sounds of Patrik taking off his clothes.

“Just come here,” Nikolaj says, not caring if he sounds needy, just wanting Patrik to _touch him_ already. He opens his eyes at the feeling of Patrik settling over him, his heartbeat quickening. Patrik leans down to catch Nikolaj’s lips in a kiss, easy and warm. Nikolaj relaxes back into the sheets.

“You’re so good,” Patrik says, pulling back to look at Nikolaj’s face, his blues eyes dark. “Wearing my jersey, so pretty--” He cuts himself off so he can kiss Nikolaj again, harder this time.

“So fucking, uh, weird,” Nikolaj says when Patrik moves to leave a hickey on his throat, too high for his shirts to cover it.

“This was your idea,” Patrik reminds him, even though Nikolaj only thought of it because he was sure Patrik would be into it. That’s--not better, actually, so he doesn’t mention it, just hooks a leg around Patrik’s waist and fists a hand in his hair so he can pull him back into a kiss.

The rough fabric of the jersey is rubbing against the skin of his back in a way that should probably be uncomfortable, but the way he can feel the stitching of the numbers scraping against his shoulder blades every time Patrik rocks against him just serves as a reminder that he’s _Patrik’s._

He thinks he shouldn’t like that half as much as he does.

Patrik slides a hand up Nikolaj’s thigh, all the way up to the waistband of his panties.

“I wouldn’t even have to take these off to fuck you,” Patrik says. He moves his hand down to Nikolaj’s hole, barely having to put any effort into moving the panties aside when he presses his thumb against him. Nikolaj’s breath leaves him in a rush and he gasps, but Patrik removes his hand quickly.

“Do it, then,” Nikolaj says, his voice unsteady. He flails a hand vaguely towards the nightstand, where he left the lube and condoms. Patrik nudges his knee between Nikolaj’s legs as he leans over to get what he needs, making Nikolaj arch up against him, into the feeling.

It doesn’t last long, Patrik moving back to kneel between his legs and slicking up his fingers. He slides one into Nikolaj without fanfare, getting a soft whine out of him.

Neither of them say anything for a while, Nikolaj busy trying to fuck himself back on Patrik’s fingers and Patrik busy watching him, but eventually Patrik breaks the silence.

“I think I’ll do you on your hands and knees,” Patrik says, and Nikolaj kind of wants to punch him for sounding so chill about everything, but Patrik curls his fingers right against Nikolaj’s prostate and he twitches. “That way I can see my name, you know?” Nikolaj does know. That’s, like, the whole reason he got the jersey.

“You’re, ah, all talk,” Nikolaj says, his wrecked voice giving him away. Patrik scowls at him, but it’s fond. He pulls his fingers out and helps Nikolaj turn over, his legs feeling weak. He fists his hands in the sheets. He can hear Patrik getting ready behind him, the crinkling of the foil and the wet sounds of the lube, then Patrik traces one of his hands over the numbers on Nikolaj’s back before pushing the jersey up enough that it’s not covering his ass.

“Looks good, Nik,” Patrik says. Nikolaj can hear the way his voice is getting a little strained and smiles, glad he’s not the only one affected by this. He shivers as Patrik tugs the string to the side. “Pretty,” is all Patrik says before he’s pressing in.

Nikolaj locks his elbows so he doesn’t fall face first into the sheets, his arms shaking. He’s stretched and slick enough that it doesn’t hurt, and he can’t help the strangled sound he makes when Patrik’s finally all the way in.

He feels--exposed isn’t right, maybe, the way he’s not even naked doesn’t seem to suit that, but he feels like Patrik has cracked something open inside him, something that has his whole body, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, feeling hot. At the same time, the feeling of Patrik’s body over him makes him feel safe, looked after, maybe.

“God,” Nikolaj gasps, not sure if he’s even speaking English anymore. “I love you.” Now that, Patrik can recognize no matter what language Nikolaj says it in.

“Love you,” Patrik says, and he grips Nikolaj’s hips tight before he moves, shifting back and forth slowly.

Nikolaj gives up on trying to stay upright, letting himself drop forward onto his elbows. Patrik’s hands are all over him, running over the lacy waistband of his panties to the name and number on his back. Everywhere except his dick, for some reason.

“Please, Patty,” Nikolaj says. He doesn’t know how to finish that sentence, so he doesn’t, grinding his hips back hard instead of using words.

“If you want to come,” Patrik says, voice rough, “you can do it like this.” To emphasize this point, he fucks Nikolaj even harder, rocking right into his prostate. Nikolaj makes a sound embarrassingly like a sob, not bothering to put his face in his arms to muffle it. He knows Patrik would just pull him back up again, anyway.

Nikolaj’s panties feel wet and sticky from precome, his skin raw from the jersey. He’s had at least a bit of a boner since he first put the panties on before they went to the club and that was _hours_ ago. He’s been riding the edge since Patrik found him on the dancefloor.

“Please touch me,” Nikolaj begs. Patrik laughs, a little mean, a little breathless, and he reaches around to rub his thumbs roughly over Nikolaj’s nipples right as he gives a particularly hard thrust. Nikolaj cries out, choked, and comes.

“Oh,” Patrik gasps, “fuck.” Patrik gives up on his rhythm, grinding into Nikolaj for only a minute before he comes, too. Nikolaj feels shaky and empty when Patrik pulls out, shocks of oversensitivity from the jersey brushing against his dick and chest.

Nikolaj tries to tug the jersey off, sweaty and stained with the come that the panties couldn’t catch, but his hands aren’t really working yet. Patrik fumbles a little, obviously not back to fully functioning yet either, but the two of them together manage to get the jersey over his head and onto the floor, and Patrik slides the panties off carefully before stumbling to the bathroom for some washcloths. He leaves all of it in a mess on the floor.

Nikolaj just slides under the blankets where the sheets are cool and fresh, Patrik joining him quickly.

“Thanks, Fly,” Patrik says, tucking himself in behind Nikolaj. “That was fun.” Nikolaj smiles, catching one of Patrik’s hands and bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles.

“Yeah, thought you’d like it,” Nikolaj says smugly. Patrik pinches his ribs gently, making him _squeak._

“Cute,” Patrik says, amusement and sleepiness mixing together in his voice. “You should get more.” Nikolaj doesn’t have to ask what he’s talking about. It’s, like. Pretty obvious.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a lengthy pause. Nikolaj almost wonders if Patrik’s fallen asleep, but--

“Maybe next time you can wear my Suomi jersey.”

“No _way.”_

Patrik just laughs at him.

**Author's Note:**

> he'll get him into that finland jersey one day but i'm probably not going to write it! maybe! 
> 
> check in with me if finland wins worlds or like. olympics.
> 
> once again... 3 am.
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)


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